


I'm so tough, baby

by leiascully



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Exercise Equipment, F/F, Hate Sex, Nipple Play, Not exactly hate sex but close enough, Tit Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha wakes up in a bad mood and wants to mess with someone.  You do not mess with Maria Hill's workout routine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm so tough, baby

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: N/A, sort of follows "baby rough me up"  
> A/N: This was a thing that happened. For the nipple play/tit torture square on my Kink Bingo card. Title still from Brooke Hogan's "Rough Me Up".  
> Disclaimer: _The Avengers_ and all related characters are property of Marvel Studios and Joss Whedon. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

It's just one of those days when Natasha feels like being an asshole. Not for any particular reason: she just woke up gritting her teeth and hasn't managed to shake it off. Even a good hard workout hasn't taken the edge off. All it did was make her sweaty and exhausted and that makes her more irritated. In the absence of anyone to kill, her only outlet is to make someone else as miserable as she is. Since the only other person in the gym at the moment is Hill, at least she's got a logical target.

Natasha scrubs a towel over her face and pulls her hair back, sauntering over. Hill is pounding away at the treadmill, her ponytail bouncing up and down in a way that makes Natasha want to grab it. Hill's sweating a little, but she's not breathing that hard. She could go on slamming out those five minute miles for a couple of hours. Natasha might respect that if it weren't so fucking boring. 

"Hey," she says, leaning on the rail of the treadmill. 

"Hey," Hill says, half-breathless but smiling. 

"Enjoying the run?" Natasha says, just to be a dick. 

Hill shrugs. "Not bad. I'd rather be outside." The words puff out of her with the rhythm of her thudding feet. 

Natasha nods. "Yeah. I know the feeling." She pauses, savoring her plans. "See you."

"See you," Hill says, and Natasha reaches out like lightning and grabs the safety key, yanking it out. The belt of the treadmill stops. Hill doesn't miss a beat: she braces her hands on the rails of the treadmill and uses the momentum to swing herself under the rails and into Natasha, laying her out flat. Almost before Natasha can react, Hill has Natasha's sports bra unhooked and and wrapped around Natasha's face, tangling her arms. Natasha pretends to struggle, but she's enjoying herself for the first time all day, so she doesn't fight hard. Hill manhandles Natasha over to the weight machines, pushing her onto the bench and rehooking the sports bra so that it secures Natasha's wrists to the pull-down bar of the lat machine. Natasha kicks at her, but Hill ducks and sets the weight to the highest level. Natasha pulls experimentally - she could budge it if she tried, but it would fucking hurt, the way her shoulders would strain, so she sits still. The bar's just high enough over her head to pull her body taut. She can feel her spine stretching as she shifts on the bench, straddling it.

"What the fuck was that for?" growls Hill. Now she's flushed and breathing hard. Mission accomplished. Natasha smirks.

"Classified," she cracks. "Maybe if you're lucky, they'll give you clearance one of these days."

Hill narrows her eyes. She steps forward and slaps Natasha right across the tits. Natasha grits her teeth and flexes her fingers into fists. There's a pale pink mark in the shape of Hill's hand on the side of her left breast. Her skin stings. She likes it. 

"That the best you got?" she challenges. 

Hill's answer is to slap her again. She uses her left hand this time, evening things out. Natasha inhales sharply. She raises an eyebrow at Hill, who slaps her again. Natasha can't help it - her back arches, her body straining against her tethered hands. Now Hill's the one smirking as she sets up a nice regular rhythm back and forth. Natasha leans into Hill's touch, anticipating each sharp smack, bracing her abs and thighs for the impact. Her chest is pink all over now, her pulse pounding in her tits. Hill's hand comes down hard and Natasha grunts just a little, hardly more than a squeak. She could hold out in silence if she wanted to, but Hill's not the torturing type - this is a game, and the rules involve give and take. 

Hill steps back and Natasha takes a breath, but before she can really regroup, Hill's mouth is on her nipple, her hands squeezing Natasha's tender breasts as her tongue swirls around, half-soothing and half-painful. Natasha tugs at her hands, trying to get her fingers on something she can untie, but Hill did a surprisingly good job, and without desperate measures, Natasha's good and stuck. Hill's competence extends to her sex life, apparently. Her hot mouth moves to Natasha's other breast and Natasha hisses through her teeth. Hill bites down and even though Natasha knows she's being gentle, it still fucking hurts. Natasha loves it, but there's only so much she can take. She's so turned on that every muscle in her body is tense and she's about to get a leg cramp. Hill's tongue joins her teeth and Natasha jumps. She pushes at Hill's thigh with her foot. Hill gives her one more nip and backs off. 

"I hope you don't think we're done here," she says. 

"Not a chance," Natasha says. 

"Good," Hill says. She stalks over to a bin of exercise equipment and pulls out a resistance band. She knots it around Natasha's chest, binding Natasha's tits down, which feels good and awful at the same time. The stinging goes away, mellowed down to a dull ache that throbs in time with Natasha's pulse, but the pressure of the latex is uncomfortable. Natasha squirms a little and Hill smiles grimly and reaches out. Natasha refuses to lean away as Hill hooks her fingers under the band and pulls it tight as Natasha braces herself. Hill pulls the band until it's stretched almost to the limit, letting it snap back against Natasha's tits. Natasha's nipples ache and sting and the latex burns against her sweaty skin. 

"Fuck you," Natasha says, gritting her teeth. 

"That's what I like to hear," Hill says, her gaze intense. "Now how are you going to make nice?"

"Untie me and I'll show you," Natasha counters. 

Hill shakes her head. "Not falling for that one. This isn't my first week, Agent." She looks Natasha over. She reaches forward and tugs at the band again; Natasha tenses against the bar, but Hill just pulls it down until one of Natasha's breasts is hanging out, the other still snugly bound. She gently strokes Natasha's nipple with one fingertip. Natasha grips the bench underneath her with her thighs. Her skin is so fucking sensitive after the slapping and the snap of the latex. Hill's touch is feather-light, almost unbearable, somewhere between caressing and tickling, and Natasha's nipple is so tight and hard that it aches. Her other breast throbs under the pinch of the half-stretched latex, which gives a little every time she takes a breath, warming and cooling.

"Goddammit," Natasha swears quietly. "What do you fucking want?"

Hill stops stroking and flicks Natasha's nipple hard. Natasha hisses as the pain jangles through her. "Next time you wake up mad, maybe think about just asking to be fucked," Hill says.

"Where's the fun in that?" Natasha cracks.

"If anybody's going to get hurt, I think it should be on purpose," Hill says, hauling on the band until it snaps back over Natasha's tits, pressing them both down to her chest. She reaches for Natasha's hips and pulls her around on the bench, so that Natasha has both feet on one side of it now. Natasha could slide forward, but then she'd have her full weight on her shoulders. She leans back, tugging against the bar, but it isn't budging. Hill climbs onto the bench, her knees bracketing Natasha's hips. 

"Staying put?" she murmurs. "Good idea."

"Seemed prudent," Natasha says sulkily.

"I didn't know you knew the word," Hill says, settling onto Natasha's lap. Natasha tenses her ass, pushing up against Hill. Hill grinds down against Natasha, making them both groan. Her hands slide up to squeeze Natasha's aching breasts and her mouth comes down on Natasha's. Natasha arches into Hill as much as she can, pushing her tongue hard against Hill's and her tits deep into Hill's palms. It's even harder to breathe with her head bent back this way and the band tight around her chest, but Natasha's not giving up. She kisses Hill fiercely, more like a fight than a makeout session. Hill tweaks Natasha's nipples through the latex and Natasha's body tightens against the ache of it. She spreads her legs wider, encouraging Hill to rub harder against her. She's so wound up that it only takes a few minutes for the orgasm to hit her, the pleasure snapping across her nerves like the broken end of a rubber band. 

"Don't you dare think it's going to be that fucking easy," Hill says. She rocks back, putting one foot on the floor, and shoves Natasha over on the bench until Natasha's half-straddling it again, one leg straight out in front of her. Hill settles over her again, her knee pressed into Natasha's clit and her cunt flush against Natasha's thigh, or at least as close as several layers of fabric will allow. She rubs against Natasha, her kneecap knocking against Natasha's bone, sharp but pleasurable. 

"I should try to knock you on your ass more often," Natasha says, just to make trouble. She's still flying high on endorphins, her body warm all through and her muscles loose. "Makes you a hell of a lot more interesting in bed."

Hill doesn't miss a beat as she slaps Natasha's tits through the latex band. Natasha gasps and she scowls. Hill leans in and whispers in Natasha's ear. "Maybe you just never fucking asked, Romanov." She turns her face and captures Natasha's mouth roughly with hers, effectively shutting Natasha up as she rides Natasha's thigh. Natasha leans into the pull of the bar and enjoys herself. She can feel the heat of Hill's cunt through the fabric and the sweet way Hill's body starts to tremble. She kisses Hill hard, rubbing her breasts against Hill's even though the latex catches painfully on her sweaty skin. Hill moans into Natasha's mouth, sending delicious shivers down Natasha's spine.

"Come the fuck on," Natasha growls, crooking her leg to get a better angle for Hill. "My arms are going to sleep."

"Shut up," Hill gasps, squeezing Natasha's tits until Natasha groans. Hill fumbles at the sports bra, releasing Natasha's hands, and Natasha falls back against the bench with a thud. She pulls Hill down on top of her and Hill pushes her hands into Natasha's hair, the weight of her body better leverage than anything Natasha could contrive with her limited resources. Hill rides her hard, desperately, the bone of her pelvis jolting hard against Natasha's until they're both shaking. Hill presses her face into Natasha's neck and bites down hard, making Natasha jump. Hill's foot slips and she tumbles to the floor, taking Natasha with her. They land hard in a heap, sweaty and satisfied.

"Fuck," Natasha says. 

"The punishment didn't quite fit the crime," Hill says. "You going to go fuck with anybody else?"

"I can't really count on anybody else's consequences feeling more like a reward," Natasha says. She sits up and starts to shake sensation back into her arms. "Nice one, Hill. I could have gotten out and had you on the floor any time, but it was pretty good work."

"I told you," Hill reminds her, "all you have to do is ask."

"And give you time to plan?" Natasha thinks about it. A thousand possibilities flit through her mind, each more delicious than the last. Hill prepared. Hill with equipment. Hill with a master plan, each sub-mission detailed and guaranteed to result in orgasm. "Maybe."

Hill staggers to her feet. "Next time, just don't fuck with my workout." She eyes the treadmill from across the room. 

"Come spar with me sometime," Natasha says. "We can multitask." She raises trembling hands to undo the knot of the latex band. "Ah, fuck."

"You need a shower," Hill observes. 

"So do you," Natasha says, cupping her breasts. Her skin is still pink from being slapped and bound.

"Come on," Hill says with a jerk of her head. "I'll soap your back for you."

"And take me from behind, probably," Natasha quips, accepting a hand up, the other arm still cradling her tender tits.

"If you ask very, very nicely," Hill promises.

Natasha is feeling a hell of a lot better, somehow.


End file.
